The Works of Lord Byron Volume VI Part 48

IX.

Were things to shake a Stoic; ne'ertheless, Upon the whole his carriage was serene: His figure, and the splendour of his dress, Of which some gilded remnants still were seen, Drew all eyes on him, giving them to guess He was above the vulgar by his mien; And then, though pale, he was so very handsome; And then--they calculated on his ransom.[eu]

X.

Like a backgammon board the place was dotted With whites and blacks, in groups on show for sale, Though rather more irregularly spotted: Some bought the jet, while others chose the pale.

It chanced amongst the other people lotted,[ev]

A man of thirty, rather stout and hale, With resolution in his dark grey eye, Next Juan stood, till some might choose to buy.

XI.

He had an English look; that is, was square In make, of a complexion white and ruddy, Good teeth, with curling rather dark brown hair, And, it might be from thought, or toil, or study, An open brow a little marked with care: One arm had on a bandage rather b.l.o.o.d.y; And there he stood with such _sang froid,_ that greater Could scarce be shown even by a mere spectator.

XII.

But seeing at his elbow a mere lad, Of a high spirit evidently, though At present weighed down by a doom which had O'erthrown even men, he soon began to show A kind of blunt compa.s.sion for the sad Lot of so young a partner in the woe, Which for himself he seemed to deem no worse Than any other sc.r.a.pe, a thing of course.

XIII.

"My boy!"--said he, "amidst this motley crew Of Georgians, Russians, Nubians, and what not, All ragam.u.f.fins differing but in hue, With whom it is our luck to cast our lot, The only gentlemen seem I and you; So let us be acquainted, as we ought: If I could yield you any consolation, 'T would give me pleasure.--Pray, what is your nation?"

XIV.

When Juan answered--"Spanis.h.!.+" he replied, "I thought, in fact, you could not be a Greek; Those servile dogs are not so proudly eyed: Fortune has played you here a pretty freak, But that's her way with all men, till they're tried; But never mind,--she'll turn, perhaps, next week; She has served me also much the same as you, Except that I have found it nothing new."

XV.

"Pray, sir," said Juan, "if I may presume, _What_ brought you here?"--"Oh! nothing very rare-- Six Tartars and a drag-chain----"--"To this doom But what conducted, if the question 's fair, Is that which I would learn."--"I served for some Months with the Russian army here and there; And taking lately, by Suwarrow's bidding, A town, was ta'en myself instead of Widdin."[275]

XVI.

"Have you no friends?"--"I had--but, by G.o.d's blessing, Have not been troubled with them lately. Now I have answered all your questions without pressing, And you an equal courtesy should show."

"Alas!" said Juan, "'t were a tale distressing, And long besides."--"Oh! if 't is really so, You're right on both accounts to hold your tongue; A sad tale saddens doubly when 't is long.

XVII.

"But droop not: Fortune at your time of life, Although a female moderately fickle, Will hardly leave you (as she's not your wife) For any length of days in such a pickle.

To strive, too, with our fate were such a strife As if the corn-sheaf should oppose the sickle: Men are the sport of circ.u.mstances, when The circ.u.mstances seem the sport of men."

XVIII.

"'T is not," said Juan, "for my present doom I mourn, but for the past;--I loved a maid:"-- He paused, and his dark eye grew full of gloom; A single tear upon his eyelash staid A moment, and then dropped; "but to resume, 'Tis not my present lot, as I have said, Which I deplore so much; for I have borne Hards.h.i.+ps which have the hardiest overworn,

XIX.

"On the rough deep. But this last blow--" and here He stopped again, and turned away his face.

"Aye," quoth his friend, "I thought it would appear That there had been a lady in the case; And these are things which ask a tender tear, Such as I, too, would shed if in your place: I cried upon my first wife's dying day, And also when my second ran away:

XX.

"My third----"--"Your third!" quoth Juan, turning round; "You scarcely can be thirty: have you three?"

"No--only two at present above ground: Surely 't is nothing wonderful to see One person thrice in holy wedlock bound!"

"Well, then, your third," said Juan; "what did she?

She did not run away, too,--did she, sir?"

"No, faith."--"What then?"--"I ran away from her."

XXI.

"You take things coolly, sir," said Juan. "Why,"

Replied the other, "what can a man do?

There still are many rainbows in your sky, But mine have vanished. All, when Life is new, Commence with feelings warm, and prospects high; But Time strips our illusions of their hue, And one by one in turn, some grand mistake Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.

XXII.

"'T is true, it gets another bright and fresh, Or fresher, brighter; but the year gone through, This skin must go the way, too, of all flesh, Or sometimes only wear a week or two;-- Love's the first net which spreads its deadly mesh; Ambition, Avarice, Vengeance, Glory, glue The glittering lime-twigs of our latter days, Where still we flutter on for pence or praise."

XXIII.

"All this is very fine, and may be true,"

Said Juan; "but I really don't see how It betters present times with me or you."

"No?" quoth the other; "yet you will allow By setting things in their right point of view, Knowledge, at least, is gained; for instance, now, We know what slavery is, and our disasters May teach us better to behave when masters."

XXIV.

"Would we were masters now, if but to try Their present lessons on our Pagan friends here,"

Said Juan,--swallowing a heart-burning sigh: "Heaven help the scholar, whom his fortune sends here!"

"Perhaps we shall be one day, by and by,"

Rejoined the other, "when our bad luck mends here; Meantime (yon old black eunuch seems to eye us) I wish to G--d that somebody would buy us.

XXV.

"But after all, what _is_ our present state?

'T is bad, and may be better--all men's lot: Most men are slaves, none more so than the great, To their own whims and pa.s.sions, and what not; Society itself, which should create Kindness, destroys what little we had got: To feel for none is the true social art Of the world's Stoics--men without a heart."

XXVI.

Just now a black old neutral personage Of the third s.e.x stepped up, and peering over The captives seemed to mark their looks and age, And capabilities, as to discover If they were fitted for the purposed cage: No lady e'er is ogled by a lover, Horse by a blackleg, broadcloth by a tailor, Fee by a counsel, felon by a jailor,

XXVII.

As is a slave by his intended bidder.

'T is pleasant purchasing our fellow-creatures; And all are to be sold, if you consider Their pa.s.sions, and are dext'rous; some by features Are bought up, others by a warlike leader, Some by a place--as tend their years or natures: The most by ready cash--but all have prices, From crowns to kicks, according to their vices.

XXVIII.

The eunuch, having eyed them o'er with care, Turned to the merchant, and began to bid First but for one, and after for the pair; They haggled, wrangled, swore, too--so they did!

As though they were in a mere Christian fair, Cheapening an ox, an a.s.s, a lamb, or kid; So that their bargain sounded like a battle For this superior yoke of human cattle.

XXIX.